Crimson Tides
by 111none
Summary: My First non-one shot, Please do review! Thanks The story on how Vladimir came to be who he is today and what he will become. Pairings?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N I do not own League of Legends or any of its Characters, This belongs to . I only own the story line and my OC's.**

**What parings do you want with Vladmir?**

He wakes, realizing that this was all a dream; or more likely a nightmare, and eternal nightmare. Every day he lives through this torture, this damnation, this eternal nightmare. Unspeakable horrors run through his mind; release, the killing of elderly, of the weak, the ones who can't survive pain, the mental pain. Oh how one like him wishes a points of release sometimes. But when it was the darkest was when he found his true strength, he body and in soul.

But the Question was, "Who am I?"

"The Tides of blood" Was his only answer.

"What am I?" He does not know.

All he knows is that he is fueled by the blood of others.

A despised character,

A menace to society

A nightmare to children,

A hectromancer,

But most importantly,

A living,breathing,person.

One that should have died along time ago.

That was all five years ago, the bloody revolution, because the of him the one who rules with an iron hand has fallen, now tea leaves are strewn throughout the land, absent of the once crimson colored ground, of the numerous corpses that lied underneath the foot of the victorious. Now he wonders who he is really, human… or something more. He remembers as clear as diamonds, the anger…, the strife, this very power within him. He realizes he has been used, to kill, to maim, to torture. His powers come from his adopted father, he wonders; "who am I? Who am I?" He knows that he is the one, the one and only Crimson Reaper He had taken the worst fears of people and manifested them into reality in their eyes, driving them into insanity. He wonders what more can he do as the memories he sees are endless, thousands and thousands of years of thoughts, emotions. He realizes he is falling into an abyss, one where power will ultimately corrupt him, twisting him beyond human, only to destroy.

_But little does he know: "When it is darkest, true light shines the brightest."_

_Tides of blood, tides of blood flowing throughout the field,of pain, of strife, of anger._


	2. Chapter 2

**ANNNND... I'm back again! I hope for those who read it enjoyed it, as I certainly enjoyed writing it! **

**Please do press the review button! It gives both of us free cookies! (::) **

**This next chapter is a little flash back on our main charters life and backround, again in poetic format, as I have no Fucking idea on how not to write normally for a story... :(**

Change is sudden; almost in human, it is painful, yet painless.

Those who do experience change are never the same again. changed . both physical and mental.

Twisted beyond the limits of human.

But as painful and as fast it begins; it ends.

That is what defines the usual, the sudden.

The ebb and flow of a battle, sewn in blood.

At the peak of it power it manifests itself, to something more, something sinister.

Yet they beckon me towards them, as if calling an old friend.

Only too late to realize, to see

What a fool I have been; a pawn in a delicate game of chess.

Cannon fodder for personal gain.

As only too late to also realize, what death truly means.

As sudden as the beckoning force appears, it vanishes; and with it the lives of many.

Now to which only a red haze remains; where rivers, torrents,of crimson, endless crimson.

Looking into the reflection, it seems that I have been to hell...

But yet instead of drowning in flames of agony, i feel... enlightened, almost free.

Free to absorb the immense power;

The power of the mind and blood.

_line break :)_

"Vladimir! Vladimir!" Shout the comrades of his platoon. Among st the skirmish, where was once a colorful, lush full valley, now stained with Crimson.

They shout his name at him, mere meters away, but when they see him; they freeze.

Among st the dead stand Vladimir, covered in a regal looking robe of red.

Looking with dark, red,angry eyes, unable to find difference between friend and foe.

One by one they fall, screaming in pain of the colorful crimson bursting out of their bodies.

Seeing themselves the true meaning of pain, of death.

Drowning in the flames of agony, choking on crimson tides.

Seething waves of red flow out, yet not to stain the ground, but instead flow to the Vladimir.

Who moments before was alive as ever, withers like a flower does in the first days of the winter,

sudden,painful,visible.


End file.
